A World Set Ablaze
by SamwiseKenobi-Peliik'do'Tey
Summary: A story of WWII, if involved were Demigods, Einherjar, etc, attempting to maintainas much historical accuracy as possible. PJO, HoO, etc, all belong to Rick Riordan. I only own the OCs which I have created.
1. War

**I figured it's about time to do that WWII era story I had been advertising. Just as a disclaimer, none of the ideas or movements in this story represent my own. I own nothing except my own OCs. PJO, HoO, and all of Rick Riordan's book series belong to Rick Riordan. To make it easier, all of the dialogue will be in English. Hope you enjoy. All criticism accepted.**

Weiluń, Poland, 0400 September 1, 1939

St. Chor. Szt. Jęderzej Wieluński, Wojska Lądowe

Despite the earliness of the shift, the men were all antsy. St. Chor. Szt. Jęderzej Wieluński couldn't blame them.

Everyone had heard the news. Germany would attack at 0440 in the morning. This morning. It all seemed like a bad dream, no one knew where they would strike, but it was going to happen.

The Army had been spread around Poland to defend cities, but Weiluń, Jęderzej's hometown, was sorely understaffed and underarmed.

Indeed, the men stationed here had only a few AA guns to protect themselves against an onslaught. It seemed impossible that the Germans would attack here.

"Sir," yelled one of Jęderzej's subordinates, "all of our defenses have been set up. What should we do?"

"Take me to one of the guns. I might have some luck if they want to test the skies. Otherwise, wait."

Indeed, Jęderzej was a demigod, son of Jupiter no less. The German leader, Adolph Hitler, was said to be a son of Pluto, and Neptune and Jupiter were having a huge disagreement with Pluto.

With Jupiter on their side, the Polish would certainly be able to repel any air invasion the Germans would throw at them.

0430.

Ten minutes.

Ten minutes until the world comes crashing down.

Ten minutes until they met their fates.

Ten minutes until all Hades broke loose.

The troops tightened their defenses. Jęderzej yelled to them, "For every offender you take down, I'll give you a pay raise! Let none get through!"

0440.

Stillness. Then a low drone. Suddenly, what looked like the entire Luftwaffe instantly materialized in the air.

So they did fancy their chances. And they decided to attack here.

Let them come.

The defensive AA weapons lit up the night with tracer fire.

One enemy went down. Then another. More and more, but they just kept coming.

Then it started to rain on the defenders. Not water. Fire.

The first bomb was dropped and Jęderzej realised that they weren't going to get the extra pay he promised. They weren't even going to go ho. At least he got to die in his home.

He continued to fire into the morning sky, barely able to see the fighters and bombers camouflaged black. He could see explosions from bombs and enemy aircraft.

Jęderzej had felled his fair share, but wasn't fast enough. The last thing he saw was the black-painted underbelly of a Do 215 as it flew directly overhead, then away into the night sky.

He had enough time to shout up, "I'll see you in Hades, Fritz!"

Then everything went black.


	2. The Foreigner

**I usually don't and won't update this often, but, on a cross country road trip, I don't have much else to do. Also, on the lengths of chapters, depending upon what happens, it's likely their length will be wildly varied, though I will attempt to make them in chronological order. Thanks for reading and, again, any and all criticism accepted.**

Above Hel, Poland, 0600, September 4, 1939

Obergefreiter Leif Magnuson, Luftwaffe

The defenders of this city just wouldn't give up. The Ju 87 Stukas of Germany's Luftwaffe had started their air assault on the Polish city of Hel three days ago, on September first.

Their AA fire was deadly accurate. Too accurate. Probably attributable to the fact that they had Zeus on their side.

It was a funny thing, these days. It was one of those rare times that monsters stayed in their holes. Also that most, if not all mortals, such as Obergefreiter Leif Magnuson, knew about them. The demigods, deities, and so on, that is.

Leif, a gunner on one of the Stukas, was put there because of two reasons. The first was that he was a foreigner, Swedish by nationality, attempted to join the German Armored Corps, because everyone knew that the Soviets would attack Finland, and Sweden would be next.

The second reason was even more offensive. Leif, of 20 years, wasn't a small guy, at 1.9 metres, and a muscular build. He had short blonde hair, and cobalt blue eyes, so he fit right in there, too. However, since he was a mortal, with no powers other than determination, they had decided that he needed the worst posting they could possibly give him.

"Look on the bright side," the pilot had said, "at least you don't have to dodge AA."

He watched as the AA guns below lit up, blowing three of the nine Stukas out of the sky as they commenced their bombing run. Most who were shot down were able to bail out before hitting the dirt, though some didn't make it. The bombs always hit the city, but the Poles were unwavering.

Leif remembered when he got to Germany. He met another foreigner at the recruiting office, an Irish sharpshooter. Of course, they had given that guy the posting he wanted because he was a demigod.

"It's suicide! They have Zeus on their side," Leif had shouted at the posting officer, "no air raid will ever work! I might as well go back to Sweden and wait for the Soviets to come!"

The Irishman had tried to make him feel a little bit better, "better story, saying you were trying to beat the odds in the air, rather than blown out of a Panzer. You got a girl waiting for you back home? Probably not. I'll give you some advice, doing something suicidal like this: chicks dig scars and glory lasts forever."

"Wow, thanks," Leif responded, annoyed already with the man.

Now, they were returning to the Luftwaffe base for rearming and refueling before they would go on another run. Yesterday, France and the UK declared war on Germany, so everyone was a little on edge, watch for fighters to come back up the Poles.

As the men took to the mess hall while their bombers were being resupplied, an officer came striding up to Leif. "Upon further review of your posting request, the command has decided to transfer you gunner in the 4th Panzer Division, effective immediately."

 _This is a change, something big must be coming up,_ Leif thought, _or someone must have died._


	3. Fire from the East

**Not much to say as far as author notes go for this one. I'm still accepting OCs, and any and all criticism is accepted. Enjoy!**

East of the Bzura River, Poland, 0800 September 11, 1939

Soldat Leif Magnuson, 4th Panzer Division

Seven days since his transfer to the Fourth Panzer Division, Leif and his two crewmates in his Pz. Kpfw. II ausf. E finally had a meaningful posting.

A Polish counteroffensive had taken the Germans by surprise, and the 10th and 4th Armies, alongside the reserves of the Army Group South, the 4th Air Fleet, and the 1st and 4th Panzer Divisions were tasked with dealing with it. The importance of winning this particular battle was that this was their best chance at destroying two of the Polish armies.

Leif had a good crew with him. He, as gunner and, by default, commander, would have to shout out orders to his crew. The driver, a smaller, cunning fellow was Soldat Otto Lokison, son of the Norse trickster god. His loader was a big guy, Soldat Adalard König, son of the Roman god Vulcan, and a pretty fast loader.

As a squadron of the 4th fleet's aircraft flew over the attacking Poles, AA fire came up to meet them. Two more aircraft went down. These Poles were tough.

The German 4th Panzer Division forces were to retreat from the outskirts of Warsaw. They were putting on the appearance of threatening one of the Polish armies. They had a few minor skirmishes, but nothing that was notable.

Over the next week, there was much restlessness in the men.

"You think they'll have us join the 10th Army?" Adalard asked his fellows.

"Probably not, they'll want us to chase the Poles away from our artillery," Otto replied from his driver's position.

The three hadn't tried to get to know each other much, since this was only a temporary listing. All over the radio chatter was the question of when the British and French send the Poles support. That's where the 4th would come in.

Wilno, Poland, 2200 September 18, 1939

St. Chor. Szt. Karol Kumiega, Korpus Ochrony Pogranicza

Five hours earlier, scouts from the Soviet Union had initiated border skirmishes with Polish forces. Now, Podpułkownik Podwiysocki decided that his troops were going to stay behind and defend Wilno from the upcoming assault.

This wouldn't have been a problem if they had tanks or AA or anti-tank weapons, but right now they were left with just infantry and handheld weapons.

Karol had just set up in a defensive position in the Rasos cemetery by the airfield with three other men. One of them used to live here. _He'll likely die here._

The Germans attacking western Poland showed that it didn't matter what gods were on who's side. More men and better weapons offered better chances of winning than any of these ridiculous deities.

The first evidence of the enemy they saw was more allied troops falling back from the airfield to the cemetery and getting ready to defend. Then a Soviet soldier ran into the open only to get mowed down.

He was the first of many. All of the Soviets who happened upon the cemetery were cut down with little Polish loss of life. The Polish had repelled the first wave, retaking the airfield.

The second wave rolled over like a storm. Karol and his three allies had held their ground in the cemetery.

Just as before, Polish soldiers fell back to the cemetery from the airfield. But this time, the first Soviets were in a squadron, better armed and more structured than the Poles.

They weren't going to repel the Soviets this time. That became very obvious when a Polish soldier stood up and went down just as fast.

They emptied their guns into the incoming Soviets, until they ran out of ammunition. One of his allies, who still had a small amount of ammo, the one who was from here yelled, "Fall back deeper into the city! I'll cover you and try to slow them down!"

Karol and the other two listened and made a run for it. The last one, a son of the Greek war god, Ares, yelled at the Soviets, "I may die protecting my city, but I'll take you with me."

His machine gun lit them up. They heard grunts and cries of pain and shouting in Russian.

"He didn't buy nearly enough time."

Karol told them, drawing a sword, "Tell Podwiysocki that he needs to retreat, we can't hold them. I'll give them a surprise."

The other two ran off after nodding, leaving Karol to duck into a doorway and wait for his chance to delay the inevitable.

After only a few minutes, but what felt hours, the first Soviet came running down the alleyway. Karol's sword flashed out, catching the poor guy in the neck. Then he was surrounded.

The Soviets started mocking him, drawing various mêlée weapons and throwing Russian insults at him. His sword clashed with theirs, and by the end he took two more down, but it wasn't enough.

One of them slashed his leg, and he fell to his knees. Some chatter amongst the enemies, as a woman strode up. She had faded brown eyes, and short brown hair. She said, in fluent Polish, "Lay down your sword, and you'll be spared."

 _Not for long. They'll just send me to the Gulaag_ , Karol thought. He contemplated taking a swing at her, but didn't even have the strength left to do that. He only spat at her feet, saying, "Your words are nothing but lies, scum."

She shrugged, replying, "As you say," before raising a rifle that really should have been used at a range.

As the world went dark, Karol thought, _I had thought dying would hurt more than this. God have mercy on Poland._


End file.
